'Fog's lifted, sir,' he said. There's a bit of cloud but you can see all the way across the Brass Bridge - '
'What will you use the golem for?'
'Not use, sir. Employ. I thought he might be useful for to keep the peace, sir.'
'A watchman?'
'Yes, sir,' said Vimes. 'Haven't you heard, sir? Golems do all the mucky jobs.'
Vetinari watched him go, and sighed. 'He does so like a dramatic exit,' he said.
'Yes, my lord,' said Drumknott, who had appeared noiselessly at his shoulder.
'Ah, Drumknott.' The Patrician took a length of candle out of his pocket and handed it to his secretary. 'Dispose of this somewhere safely, will you?'
'Yes, my lord?'
'It's the candle from the other night.'
'It's not burned down, my lord? But I saw the candle end in the holder...'
'Oh, of course I cut off enough to make a stub and let the wick burn for a moment. I couldn't let our gallant policeman know I'd worked it out for myself, could I? Not when he was making such an effort and having so much fun being... well, being Vimes. I'm not completely heartless, you know.'
'But, my lord, you could have sorted it out diplomatically! Instead he went around upsetting things and making a lot of people very angry and afraid - '
'Yes. Dear me. Tsk, tsk.'
'Ah,' said Drumknott.
'Quite so,' said the Patrician.
'Do you wish me to have the table in the Rats Chamber repaired?'
'No, Drumknott, leave the axe where it is. It will make a good... conversation piece, I think.'
'May I make an observation, my lord?'
'Of course you may,' said Vetinari, watching Vimes walk through the palace gates.
'The thought occurs, sir, that if Commander Vimes did not exist you would have had to invent him.'
'You know, Drumknott, I rather think I did.'
'Atheism Is Also A Religious Position,' Dorfl rumbled.
'No it's not!' said Constable Visit. 'Atheism is a denial of a god.'
'Therefore It Is A Religious Position,' said Dorfl. 'Indeed, A True Atheist Thinks Of The Gods Constantly, Albeit In Terms of Denial. Therefore, Atheism Is A Form Of Belief. If The Atheist Truly Did Not Believe, He Or She Would Not Bother To Deny.'
'Did you read those pamphlets I gave you?' said Visit suspiciously.
'Yes. Many Of Them Did Not Make Sense. But I Should Like To Read Some More.'
'Really?' said Visit. His eyes gleamed. 'You really want more pamphlets?'
'Yes. There Is Much In Them That I Would Like To Discuss. If You Know Some Priests, I Would Enjoy Disputation.'
'All right, all right,' said Sergeant Colon. 'So are you going to take the sodding oath or not, Dorfl?'
Dorfl held up a hand the size of a shovel. 'I, Dorfl, Pending The Discovery Of A Deity Whose Existence Withstands Rational Debate, Swear By The Temporary Precepts of A Self-Derived Moral System - '
'You really want more pamphlets?' said Constable Visit.
Sergeant Colon rolled his eyes.
'Yes,' said Dorfl.
'Oh, my god!' said Constable Visit, and burst into tears. 'No one's ever asked for more pamphlets before!'
Colon turned when he realized Vimes was watching. 'It's no good, sir,' he said. 'I've been trying to swear him in for half an hour, sir, and we keep ending up arguing about oaths and things.'
'You willing to be a Watchman, Dorfl?' said Vimes.
'Yes.'
'Right. That's as good as a swear to me. Give him his badge, Fred. And this is for you, Dorfl. It's a chit to say you're officially alive, just in case you run into any trouble. You know... with people.'
Thank You,' said Dorfl solemnly. 'If Ever I Feel I Am Not Alive, I Will Take This Out And Read It.'
'What are your duties?' said Vimes.
'To Serve The Public Trust, Protect The Innocent, And Seriously Prod Buttock, Sir,' said Dorfl.
'He learns fast, doesn't he?' said Colon. 'I didn't even tell him the last one.'
'People won't like it,' said Nobby. S not going to be popular, a golem as a watchman.'
'What Better Work For One Who Loves Freedom Than The Job of Watchman. Law Is The Servant of Freedom. Freedom Without Limits Is Just A Word,' said Dorfl ponderously.
'Y'know,' said Colon, 'if it doesn't work out, you could always get ajob making fortune cookies.'
'Funny thing, that,' said Nobby. 'You never get bad fortunes in cookies, ever noticed that? They never say stuff like: Oh dear, things're going to be really bad. I mean, they're never misfortune cookies.'
Vimes lit a cigar and shook the match to put it out. 'That, Corporal, is because of one of the fundamental driving forces of the universe.'
'What? Like, people who read fortune cookies are the lucky ones?' said Nobby.
'No. Because people who sell fortune cookies want to go on selling them. Come on, Constable Dorfl. We're going for a walk.'
'There's a lot of paperwork, sir,' said Sergeant Colon.
'Tell Captain Carrot I said he should look at it,' said Vimes, from the doorway.
'He hasn't been in yet, sir.'
'It'll keep.'
'Right, sir.'
Colon went and sat behind his desk. It was a good place to be, he'd decided. There was absolutely no chance of finding any Nature there. He'd had a rare conversation with Mrs Colon this morning and made it clear that he was no longer interested in getting close to the soil because he'd been as close to the soil as it was possible to get and the soil, it turned out, was just dirt. A good thick layer of cobblestones was, he decided, about as close as he wanted to get to Nature. Also, Nature tended to be squishy.
'I've got to go on duty,' said Nobby. 'Captain Carrot wants me to do crime prevention in Peach Pie Street.'
'How d'you do that, then?' said Colon.
'Keep away, he said.'
Ere, Nobby, woss this about you not being a lord after all?' said Colon cautiously.
'I think I got the sack,' said Nobby. 'Bit of a relief, really. That nobby grub isn't much, and the drink is frankly piss.'
'Lucky escape for you, then,' said Colon. 'I mean, you won't have to go giving your clothes away to gardeners and so on.'
'Yeah. Wish I'd never told them about the damn ring, really.'
'Would've saved you a lot of trouble, certainly,' said Colon.
Nobby spat on his badge and buffed it industriously with his sleeve. 'S a good job I never told them about the tiara, the coronet and the three gold lockets, he said to himself.
'Where Are We Going?' said Dorfl, as Vimes strolled across the Brass Bridge.
'I thought I might break you in gently with some guard duty at the palace,' said Vimes.
'Ah. This Is Where My New Friend Constable Visit Is Also On Guard,' said Dorfl.
'Splendid!'
'I Wish To Ask You A Question,' said the golem.
'Yes?'
'I Smashed The Treadmill But The Golems Repaired It. Why? And I Let The Animals Go But They Just Milled Around Stupidly. Some of Them Even Went Back To The Slaughter Pens. Why?'
'Welcome to the world, Constable Dorfl.'
'Is It Frightening To Be Free?'
'You said it.'
'You Say To People Throw Off Your Chains And They Make New Chains For Themselves?'
'Seems to be a major human activity, yes.'
Dorfl rumbled as he thought about this. 'Yes,' he said eventually. 'I Can See Why. Freedom Is Like Having The Top Of Your Head Opened Up.'
'I'll have to take your word for that, Constable.'
'And You Will Pay Me Twice As Much As Other Watchmen/ said Dorfl.
'Will I?'
'Yes. I Do Not Sleep. I Can Work Constantly. I Am A Bargain. I Do Not Need Days Off To Bury My Granny.'
How soon they learn, thought Vimes. He said: 'But you have holy days off, don't you?'
'Either All Days Are Holy Or None Are. I Have Not Decided Yet.'
'Er... what do you need money for, Dorfl?'
'I Shall Save Up And Purchase The Golem Klutz Who Labours In The Pickle Factory, And Give Him To Himself; Then Together We Will Earn And Save For The Golem Bobkes Of The Coal Merchant; The Three Of Us Will Labour And Buy The Golem Shmata Who Toils At The Seven-Dollar Tailor's In Peach Pie Street; Then The Four of Us Will - '
'Some people might decide to free their comrades by force and bloody revolution,' said Vimes. 'Not that I'm suggesting that in any way, of course.'
'No. That Would Be Theft. We Are Bought And Sold, So We Will Buy Ourselves Free. By Our Labour. No One Else To Do It For Us. We Will Do It By Ourselves.'
Vimes smiled to himself. Probably no other species in the world would demand a receipt with their freedom. Some things you just couldn't change.
'Ah,' he said. 'It seems some people want to talk to us...'
A crowd was approaching over the bridge, in a mass of grey, black and saffron robes. It was made up of priests. They looked angry. As they pushed and shoved their way through the other citizens, several haloes became interlocked.
At their head was Hughnon Ridcully, Chief Priest of Blind lo and the closest thing Ankh-Morpork had to a spokesman on religious issues. He spotted Vimes and hurried towards him, admonitory finger upraised.
'Now, see here, Vimes...' he began, and stopped. He glared at Dorfl.
'Is this if?' he said.
'If you mean the golem, this is /ii'm,' said Vimes. 'Constable Dorfl, your reverence.'
Dorfl touched his helmet respectfully. 'How May We Be Of Service?' he said.
'You've done it this time, Vimes!' said Ridcully, ignoring him. 'You've gone altogether too far by . half. You made this thing speak and it isn't even alive!' '
'We want it smashed!'
'Blasphemy!'
'People won't stand for it!'
Ridcully looked around at the other priests. 'I'm talking,' he said. He turned back to Vimes. 'This comes under the heading of gross profanity and the worship of idols - '
'I don't worship him. I'm just employing him,' said Vimes, beginning to enjoy himself. 'And he's far from idle.' He took a deep breath. 'And if it's gross profanity you're looking for - '
'Excuse Me,' said Dorfl.
'We're not listening to you! You're not even really alive!' said a priest.
Dorfl nodded. 'This Is Fundamentally True,' he said.
'See? He admits it!'
'I Suggest You Take Me And Smash Me And Grind The Bits Into Fragments And Pound The Fragments Into Powder And Mill Them Again To The Finest Dust There Can Be, And I Believe You Will Not Find A Single Atom of Life - '
'True! Let's do it!'
'However, In Order To Test This Fully, One Of You Must Volunteer To Undergo The Same Process.'
There was silence.
'That's not fair,' said a priest, after a while. 'All anyone has to do is bake up your dust again and you'll be alive...'
There was more silence.
Ridcully said, 'Is it only me, or are we on tricky theological ground here?'
There was more silence.
Another priest said, 'Is it true you've said you'll believe in any god whose existence can be proved by logical debate?'
'Yes.'
Vimes had a feeling about the immediate future and took a few steps away from Dorfl.
'But the gods plainly do exist,' said a priest.
'It Is Not Evident.'
A bolt of lightning lanced through the clouds and hit Dorfl's helmet. There was a sheet of flame and then a trickling noise. Dorfl's molten armour formed puddles around his white-hot feet.
'I Don't Call That Much Of An Argument,' said Dorfl calmly, from somewhere in the clouds of smoke.
'It's tended to carry the audience,' said Vimes. 'Up until now.'
The Chief Priest of Blind lo turned to the other priests. 'All right, you fellows, there's no need for any of that - '
'But Offler is a vengeful god,' said a priest at the back of the crowd.
'Trigger-happy is what he is,' said Ridcully. Another lightning bolt zigzagged down but bent at right-angles a few feet above the Chief Priest's hat and earthed itself on a wooden hippo, which split. The Chief Priest smiled smugly and turned back to Dorfl, who was making little clinking noises as he cooled.
'What you're saying is, you'll accept the existence of any god only if it can be proved by discussion?'
'Yes,'said Dorfl.
Ridcully rubbed his hands together. 'Not a problem, me old china,' he said. 'Firstly, let us take the - '
'Excuse Me,' said Dorfl. He bent down and picked up his badge. The lightning had given it an interesting melted shape.
'What are you doing?' said Ridcully.
'Somewhere, A Crime Is Happening,' said Dorfl. 'But When I Am Off Duty I Will Gladly Dispute With The Priest of The Most Worthy God.'
He turned and strode on across the bridge. Vimes nodded hurriedly at the shocked priests and ran after him. We took him and baked him in the fire and he's turned out to be free, he thought. No words in the head except the ones he's chosen to put there himself. And he's not just an atheist, he's a ceramic atheist. Fireproof!
It looked like being a good day.
Behind them, on the bridge, a fight was breaking out.
Angua was packing. Or, rather, she was failing to pack. The bundle couldn't be too heavy to carry by mouth. But a little money (she wouldn't have to buy much food) and a change of clothes (for those occasions when she might have to wear clothes) didn't have to take up much room.
'The boots are a problem,' she said aloud.
'Maybe if you knot the laces together you could carry them round your neck?' said Cheri, who was sitting on the narrow bed.
'Good idea. Do you want these dresses? I've never got round to wearing them. I expect you could cut them down.'
Cheri took them in both arms. 'This one's silkV
'There's probably enough material for you to make two for one.'
'D'you mind if I share them out? Only some of the lads - the ladies at the Watch House' - Cheri savoured the word 'ladies' - 'are beginning to get a bit thoughtful
'Going to melt down their helmets, are they?' said Angua.
'Oh, no. But perhaps they could be made into a more attractive design. Er...'
'Yes?'
'Urn...'
Cheri shifted uneasily.
'You've never actually eaten anyone, have you? You know... crunching bones and so on?'
'No.'
'I mean, I only heard my second cousin was eaten by werewolves. He was called Sfen.'
'Can't say I recall the name,' said Angua.
Cheri tried to grin. That's all right, then,' she said.
'So you won't need that silver spoon in your pocket,' said Angua.
Cheri's mouth dropped open, and then the words tumbled over themselves. 'Er ... I don't know how it got there it must have dropped in when I was washing up oh I didn't mean - '
'It doesn't worry me, honestly. I'm used to it.'
'But I didn't think you'd - '
'Look, don't get the wrong idea. It's not a case of not wanting to,' said Angua. 'It's a case of wanting to and not doing it.'
'You don't really have to go, do you?'
'Oh, I don't know if I can take the Watch seriously and... and sometimes I think Carrot's working up to ask me ... and, well, it'd never work out. It's the way he just assumes everything, you know? So best to go now,' Angua lied.
'Won't Carrot try to stop you?'
'Yes, but there's nothing he can say.'
'He'll be upset.'
'Yes,' said Angua briskly, throwing another dress on the bed. 'And then he'll get over it.'
'Hrolf Thighbiter's asked me out,' said Cheri shyly, looking at the floor. 'And I'm almost certain he's male!'
'Glad to hear it.'
Cheri stood up. 'I'll walk with you as far as the Watch House. I've got to go on duty.'
They were half-way along Elm Street before they saw Carrot, head and shoulders above the crowd.
'Looks like he was coming to see you,' said Cheri. 'Er, shall I go away?'
Too late...'
'Ah, good morning, Corporal Miss Little-bottom!' said Carrot cheerfully. 'Hello, Angua. I was just coming to see you but I had to write my letter home first, of course.'
He took off his helmet, and smoothed back his hair. 'Er...' he began.
'I know what you're going to ask,' said Angua.
'You do?'
'I know you've been thinking about it. You knew I was wondering about going.'
'It was obvious, was it?'
'And the answer's no. I wish it could be yes.'
Carrot looked astonished. 'It never occurred to me that you'd say no,' he said. 'I mean, why should you?'
'Good grief, you amaze me,' she said. 'You really do.'
'I thought it'd be something you'd want to do,' said Carrot. He sighed. 'Oh, well ... it doesn't matter, really.'
Angua felt that a leg had been kicked away. 'It doesn't matter? she said.
'I mean, yes, it'd have been nice, but I won't lose any sleep over it.'
'You won't?'
'Well, no. Obviously not. You've got other things you want to do. That's fine. I just thought you might enjoy it. I'll do it by myself.'
'What? How can ... ?' Angua stopped. 'What are you talking about, Carrot?'
'The Dwarf Bread Museum. I promised Mr Hopkinson's sister that I'd tidy it up. You know, get it sorted out. She's not very well off and I thought it could raise some money. Just between you and me, there's several exhibits in there that could be better-presented, but I'm afraid Mr Hopkinson was rather set in his ways. I'm sure there's a lot of dwarfs in the city that'd flock there if they knew about it, and of course there's a lot of youngsters that ought to learn more about their proud heritage. A good dusting and a lick of paint would make all the difference, I'm sure, especially on the older loaves. I don't mind giving up a few days off. I just thought it might cheer you up, but I appreciate that bread isn't everyone's cup of tea.'
Angua stared at him. It was the stare that Carrot so often attracted. It roamed every feature of his face, looking for the tiniest clue that he was making some kind of joke. Some long, deep joke at the expense of everyone else. Every sinew in her body knew that he must be, but there was not a clue, not a twitch to prove it.
'Yes,' she said weakly, still searching his face, 'I expect it could be a little goldmine.'
'Museums have got to be a whole lot more interesting these days. And, you know, there's a whole guerrilla crumpet assortment he hasn't even catalogued,' said Carrot. 'And some early examples of defensive bagels.'
'Gosh,' said Angua. 'Hey, why don't we paint a big sign saying something like The Dwarf Bread Experience ?'
'That probably wouldn't work for dwarfs,' said Carrot, oblivious to sarcasm. 'A dwarf bread experience tends to be short. But I can see it's certainly caught your imagination!'
I'll have to go, Angua thought as they strolled on down the street. Sooner or later he'll see that it can't really work out. Werewolves and humans... we've both got too much to lose. Sooner or later I'll have to leave him.
But, for one day at a time, let it be tomorrow.
'Want the dresses back?' said Cheri, behind her.
'Maybe one or two,' said Angua.
THE END